Ghosts of the Wood
by Demo ODST
Summary: After a group of soldiers were left stranded and cut off from Federation lines, they banned together to survive, raiding imperial forces for supplies. After months behind enemy lines, they have become a talented and effective threat to the empire's forces, prompting the Empire to begin trying to hunt them down.


**Alright, firstly, i want this to be absolutely clear that this is a** _slight_ **altered universe from the typical Valkyria Chronicles. namely, i've taken the guns and weapons of the games, and tweaked them to their real world counter parts. mostly, because i wanted M1 Garands and Thompson Sub machine guns. that said, i am going to be using names from the series to name these weapons. IE, the M1 Kelvin should be obvious what it is. i'm also tweaking the lienfield into a lee enfield, with a modified version having a 'self-loading' or semi-automatic action. there are also going to be some small additions, like aircraft will be a little more prominent, but not at the level that the were in WW2. anyway, i hope you all end up enjoying this story and i'll try to explain more of the games back ground and universe more as i go for those of you who have never played the games.**

* * *

The soldier watched as one of the empire's brown boxy tanks rumbled through the trees, sticking to a narrow trail barely wide enough for the light tank to pass through. at least a dozen foot soldiers followed, the small armor squad likely doing nothing more than confirming a new trail through the dense forest. A small rustle on the soldiers right caused him to glance over, looking through a very fine fishing net that had been draped over him to a lump amongst the many natural ferns that grew in the area. A pair of dark green eyes could barely be seen under one of the ferns, staring straight back at the soldier's own dark brown. A single shake of his head told the other hidden soldier that they were not going to attack just yet, knowing a single squad was not much of a prize. As soon as the sounds of the enemy had died away, their rear scout being long gone, the soldier motioned to his ally to stand up, doing the same before the pair crept away, their modified fishing nets making them look like walking patches of ground rather than people.

* * *

 _Great, this is just fantastic!_ Alyson Barnette desperately wanted to mutter that to herself as she climbed out of the tank's drivers seat. As soon as she was clear from the drivers compartment, she leapt off the side of the hull, using the short bolt action carbine she was issued to help keep her from falling over as she landed in the slick muck the tank was now stuck in. The stock was jammed several inches into the thick mud after she landed, Alyson simply leaving the weapon there.

"How bad is it Barnette!?" her commanding officers voice drifted down to her from here he had opened the hatch on the tank's turret, one of the only areas of the tank not covered in mud, letting it's blue paint show.

She barely gave him more than a glance though, looking down at the mud covered tracks for the tank, and hoping she was wrong about the loud snap they heard earlier. To her dismay, it was exactly as she had feared, the treads of their tank sitting limply on the suspension system.

"We snapped a track again lieutenant." She let out a sigh at the sight, knowing they had run out of spare track parts several days ago. It had been almost two weeks since they had been cut off from the rest of the Gallian militia and driven deep behind Imperial lines after being engaged by much larger forces over and over. And being so deep in the woods, none of them had any idea where they were. So the exhausted, underfed, and defeated squad had just been aimlessly trudging forward, with very little idea as to how or if any of them were going to survive.

"Damn it! Any ideas on a fix?"

 _A fix!? How the hell am I to fix a broken tank running on spare parts, with no parts! I'm a mechanic, not a magician!_

"Unless you can pull a random track out of somewhere, no, I can't."

"Great. Well, we were already almost out of ragnoline right? Guess it's time we said goodbye to the ol girl." The lieutenant patted the tank, his hand just inches from where the metal was torn and dented, where a tank round had impacted the armor and detonated. Thankfully, it had been a high explosive round, not designed for killing tanks. Even so, Alyson's head still hurt from that concussive force of the blast that shell had made.

"Old is a good descriptor for this piece of junk." She grumbled that under her breath as she moved to yank the rifle from where she had left it, still jammed in the mud. The tank in question was nearly thirty years old now. She stumbled slightly once she had yanked the weapon free, turning to speak again when a brilliant flash suddenly filled her vision.

The next thing she knew, she was lying in some sort of mushy bed, it taking her several moments to realize that her body was soaked. Strange rippling sensations seemed to be crossing over her body from several directions. Some were rapid and weak, others were strong, like being slapped across her whole body. Some even felt as though something was whipping by her. _Almost like… Bullets!_

Her mind was immediately panicking as her ears began to ring, dully at first, but shortly rising to an excruciating crescendo. Try as she might, she couldn't sit up in the muck, her body only weakly and shakily responding to her commands as her arms and legs failed to find any purchase to help her stand. With her eyes now open, she could see the blackened and burning husk that had been her tank, now a dozen or so feet away from her. Bits of metal were strewn about like confetti as gunshots began to register in her ears, shouts shortly following them. None of it was distinct enough to understand though as a group of tracer rounds whipped through the trees. She barely managed to roll onto her hands and knees, fruitlessly searching for her lost rifle in the muck.

She panicked as a hand gripped her arm, forcing her onto her back. It took her a moment to recognize the filthy blue gallian uniform of one of her squad mates, their only sergeant in fact, as he yanked her to her feet in the mud. She had no comprehension of what he shouted at her, but the harsh shove in the direction of the tree line was all the information she needed. She tried to sprint in the direction she was told, finding her boots nearly impossible to drag out of the mud, as though it was trying to hold her in place.

More sound was beginning to register in her ears as bullets continued to crack by, the sucking gasps her boots were making barely audible through all the noise. By this point, her heart was hammering away in her chest, faster than the machine guns firing at her. She nearly cheered as her boots hit more or less solid ground, where the local foliage was holding the muck in place. Once on it, she began to run as fast as her legs would allow her, bullets ripping into the trees and ground around her, sending bits of wood and clods of dirt flying into the air all around her.

"Get down!" she heard the sergeant shout from somewhere behind her, following his command instantaneously. In doing so, she slid down into a shallow draw a tiny creek had carved through the wilderness, just barely deep enough for her to hide in. bullets were ripping into the dirt embankment in alarming numbers, casting dirt and rocks flying like confetti.

The sergeant was in the same draw she was, cowering in place with his sub-machine gun clutched tightly to his chest. The curved side loading magazine of his weapon had clearly been hit by a bullet, half of it hanging down from where the steel was ruptured.

The sergeant cursed loudly, yanking the destroyed magazine out and tossing it aside, several small pieces of brass flying from the ruined object. As soon as he had the magazine clear, he was grabbing another one from his ammo bandolier, locking it in place. As soon as he had a magazine loaded, he raised himself up just enough to get his weapon clear of the embankment and fired off a burst. He never got the chance to continue firing though, as a one of the many cracks accompanied his head snapping back, just before he fell back into the draw. His body lay there, unmoving, Alyson's eyes fixed on it as she sat there, motionless.

Slowly, the gun fire petered out, shouts still audible to Alyson, but she payed no attention to them. Her eyes were still focused on the Sergeants corpse, where he had fallen partially into the shallow creek, tainting the water red as it flowed past his head.

"I got a live one here!" that shout startled her, looking above her to see an imperial soldier, his heavy almost medieval looking full plate armor showing none of his skin. He was aiming his weapon at her, the boxy magazine fed self-loading rifle far outstripping the bolt action carbine most of her squad was issued.

 _This is it, I'm going to die…_

The soldier motioned for his team mate to come closer, taking his eyes off Alyson for the barest trace of a moment. Not that it mattered any, she was too frozen in fear to move. She still had a small pistol, likely caked in mud and inoperable, but if she could have only moved, she could at least go down fighting. But no matter how much she wanted to, she could not bring herself to move. Her body was trembling more than she could comprehend, her eyes still locked to the eye slit on the soldiers helmet as the soldiers attention returned to her.

"Just shoot em! We don't have the time for prisoners right now!"

The soldier shrugged at the shouted response, raising the weapon to his shoulder, Alyson now literally staring down the rifled barrel. "Sorry about this."

A loud bang ripped through the air, Alyson shrieking from the sudden break in the silence, as well as the near point blank pressure wave whipping through her back. For a moment, she could not comprehend what had just happened, watching as the soldier above her slumped forward, falling off the embankment and over her. Her eyes followed the corpse until it splashed into the shallow creek. A second bang ripped through her, a brilliant orange flash emanating from a bush at the base of one of the trees on the bank opposing her. Several more bangs rang out, along side a deep and resounding boom off in the trees, far enough away that it was almost like a gunshot in volume.

Only moments later, the gunfire had ceased altogether, complete and utter silence filling the area so deep that it was as terrifying as the short battle had been. After what felt like a lifetime, the brush the muzzle flashes had emanated from seemed to lift from the ground, Alyson barely able to make out the shape of a rifle, and a man under some sort of blanket. He quickly moved over to her, his mud covered features becoming clearer as he did so. All she could really discern about him was his brown eyes, the rifle in his hand even being covered in foliage.

"Come on, we have to move, this was just a lead element for an armored battalion." He spoke calmly and clearly, holding his hand out to her while keeping his trigger hand on his weapon. She gingerly accepted it, letting him drag her to her feet and into the trees. As they moved, several more walking bushes joined them, trailing behind like a group of ants. If she had to guess, there were almost two dozen of them, at least one carrying a massive anti-tank lance, so covered in plant life and canvas that it looked more like a log than a weapon.

She wanted to ask the person leading her through the woods who they were, but she was still so shaken from the battle only moments ago that she couldn't even find the will to speak as minutes soon dragged into hours, barely noticing the terrain passing by her. Suddenly, she found herself in a clearing, one that had been dug out so deep that until she had slipped into it, she would have never known it existed. The bare dirt had dozens of munitions crates, weapons, parts, ragnoline cans, even people covering almost every square foot of it. The edges of the area had the entrances to what looked like tunnels, a few people moving in and out of them. It was like she had stepped from the forest and straight into a thriving military base. At the center was a federation tank, it's slopped hull and rounded turret a design she had never seen in person before, but had been drilled and taught about in the few short months since she had been drafted.

The walking bush she had been following stopped now that they were well with in the camp, sitting her down on a crate before pulling a canteen off his belt, handing it to her. "Drink, we'll have some food and a change of clothes for you soon. Just focus on resting for now. You'll be safe here."

She merely nodded in response, still shaking slightly as she opened the canteen and drank from it. Meanwhile, the soldier was untying sections of string from his arms, legs, and chest, letting him slip the canvas and netting off his body, setting it on a crate beside her. This revealed him to be wearing a simple green uniform, as filthy as it was, matching that of the army of the United States of Vinland. As she watched, the rest of the soldiers around her were doing the same, revealing uniforms from what seemed like a dozen nationality's, all federation nations.

"W-Who are you guys?" she barely managed to get her voice to work, the soldier perking up slightly at her words.

"Well, nothing official is what. I'm a paratrooper with the USV. There are a few of us around, plus a few of the mixed national rangers, a large number of guys from Edinburgh. we all got cut off behind enemy lines and ended up here. You're pretty far from Gallia miss?" he smiled to her as he finished, seeming to almost mindlessly strip the canvas and foliage off his rifle, revealing the Vinlish M One Kelvin, a self loading rifle she only recognized as such after an article about it had been passed around her militia squad. And with a title like 'The greatest implement of battle ever created', it was one of the few weapons she could recognize on sight.

"Corporal Alyson Barnette, squad five, first regiment of the Gallian militia."

"Nice to meet you corporal, Sergeant Kaleb Miller, five hundred and first airborne infantry regiment." He set his weapon down for a moment, offering his hand to her, which she immediately accepted. "Now get some rest. You've had a rough day." He spoke warmly to her just before returning his attention to the weapon before him, taking it apart in moments before beginning to clean it right there on the crate.


End file.
